


Take a Chance

by dreamcp



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Getting Together, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Phichit the fairy godbro, Secret Identity, Some angst, everything i write is feel good and im not apologizing, matchmaker phichit, yuuri needs confidence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9070039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamcp/pseuds/dreamcp
Summary: Once upon a time, Yuuri wished he could break away from the restraints his anxiety placed on him. Once upon a time, Viktor was looking for a skating partner. Chance (and a persistent matchmaker) may bring them together.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I know it's only been like four days since my last work, but the YOI finale had me feeling a certain type of way. I managed to crank this out in five or so days, which is incredible. So thank you very much to GreekRoman for helping check this whole thing over, and I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading!  
> EDIT: Didn't realize I'd left out a description, oops. Fixed now!

It started in October, technically. The leaves were turning colors and beginning to fall, and the air was turning chilly. It would be coat weather soon. Blankets of fallen leaves cloaked the streets of Hasetsu in vibrant shades of orange and yellow. The world seemed to be at ease, quietly awaiting the winter.

That was, until Minako burst through the front doors of the hot springs, waving a newspaper frantically and shouting, “Viktor Nikiforov is coming to Hasetsu!”

Yuuri spat out the drink he'd been enjoying. “What the _fuck.”_

“Language, dear,” his mother chastised, shooting him a disapproving look. Yuuri winced and muttered an apology before turning back to the harried-looking woman in the doorway. He didn't swear often, but if what Minako said was true, he felt it was warranted.

“It's right here!” Minako shrieked, crossing the room in a few long strides and shoving the paper in Yuuri’s face. She began to ramble excitedly to Yuuri's mother as he adjusted his glasses and started to read. Yuuri’s eyes grew huge as he scanned the article.

Viktor Nikiforov, living legend, was coming to Hasetsu. Dear god.

“Why here?” Yuuri asked. His voice was shaky. Luckily, Minako didn't seem to notice.

“The Grand Prix is being held nearby, remember? It's the perfect time to bring together tons of skaters!”

Yuuri wanted to point out that she didn't really answer why he was coming to _Hasetsu_ of all places, but first he was a little confused. “Why does he need to bring skaters together?”

He regretted asking almost immediately; Minako spun around with so much force that it made him flinch.

“Did you even _read?!”_ she shrieked, grabbing the newspaper from Yuuri's hands and jabbing to a section of the article. Yuuri mumbled the words as he read them, his eyes dancing across the paper.

“‘Searching for a partner… three evenings of drinks and dancing…’ Minako, what is this?”

“Yuuri, he's looking for a skating partner!” Minako said, her eyes shining with excitement. Yuuri's breath left him. “All pro skaters are welcome to wear their costumes and attend this party thing, _that means you!”_

“Skating… partner…”

“He said he's bored with solo skating for now, and he wants to spice things up by bringing someone new into the equation!” Minako said. Then she added, “Well. That's the gist of it, anyway.”

Yuuri's head was swimming with all of the new information. Viktor Nikiforov— _the_ Viktor Nikiforov— was having a celebration to search for a partner. In his hometown. Where he lived. He might actually get the chance to meet his hero face-to-face—!

No. Yuuri shut down that idea as quickly as possible. Viktor was looking for a good partner. Yuuri hadn't even qualified for the Grand Prix that was being held in Fukuoka in a few months. Plus, he no longer had any of his skating costumes. He clenched his fists tightly in his lap. There was no way he would catch Viktor’s eye, even if he went. Even though he really wanted to try.

Yuuri stood and tried to dart out of the lobby towards his bedroom. Of course, Minako’s shriek stopped him before he was in the clear. Damn.

“Well?!” she asked. Yuuri sighed and turned to face her, seeing the expectant look on her face. He tried to ignore the _tap tap tap_ of her fingers against the newspaper she held in her crossed arms.

“Sounds fun,” he managed, and fled into the house.

Yuuri did his best to avoid any news of the approaching gala. It was official, now; a convention center had been booked. He knew because Minako insisted on updating him on every new detail. Clearly, ignoring the problem wasn't working.

“They've decided on the dates, Yuuri! It'll start after the Prix ends, and finishes on New Year's Eve!”

“I saw the venue that's being rented out, it's fancy. Take some pictures or something when you go!”

He couldn't even get away from it at the rink where he went to practice. Honestly, Yuuri wasn't sure why he'd expected _that_ to be a safe space, especially with the triplets around.

“Did you hear, they've got the catering all sorted out!”

“I saw posters being put up for the event just last week!”

“Viktor said anyone was welcome to come and try out, man or woman! Yuuri’s got a real shot!”

Yuuri just kept practicing in silence. Not that he was really practicing for anything; he didn't have a coach anymore. He guessed it was just to keep up appearances, now. His mind went back and forth between going to the gala. Should he give it a try? Would he embarrass himself? Was it really worth it?

Fall grew colder and the days grew shorter. Excitement built for the Grand Prix, and the events that would follow. Many new people were arriving in Hasetsu for the gala. Yuuri had never seen the hot springs so busy. With less than a week before the Prix began, his decision time was running out. In the end, it wasn't until Yuuri was surrounded by the joyful cries of his family and friends as they watched Viktor accept the gold medal that he made up his mind for good.

There was no way in hell Yuuri could match Viktor.

And that was disregarding the many skaters who had already proven their prowess, who'd actually _succeeded_ in making it into competitions. Yuuri had lost his nerve one too many times, and he'd ended up being sent home. No, Viktor could do so much better.

Yuuri managed to escape the chaos unnoticed, and headed for the Ice Castle. He let himself into the building and laced up a pair of skates.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Yuuri started out just going back and forth in slow movements. Skating brought his mind into focus like nothing else could. There was no pressure to perform or impress now. It was just him and the ice.

He picked up speed. His skates carved through the ice gracefully, years of practice guiding them. And yet, Yuuri performed for no one. He jumped and glided and jumped and glided for an audience of zero. There was only Yuuri's complete focus on his movements.

Yuuri didn't know how long he went on for. Fifteen minutes maybe, or twenty. No more than half an hour. He stopped at last, chest heaving and lungs burning, tired to the bone yet satisfied, somehow. Maybe he'd exhausted himself enough that he didn't care about his lack of skill anymore.

He lingered a few more minutes on the ice, just listening to his breathing against the silence of the rink. Then, shaking his head, Yuuri exited the rink and returned the skates. 

There was still celebrating going on when he returned home. No one commented on his disappearance, and Yuuri was grateful. He slipped into the residence part of the resort and walked down the hall to his room, where he promptly made a beeline for the bed. Too tired to change, Yuuri simply curled up under the covers and shoved his face into the pillow.

His last thought before sleep took over was that Viktor would sure have a lot of people to choose from. He would undoubtedly find an amazing partner in Hasetsu.


	2. Night 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri finds a way to the party, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fun begins.

The resort was busier than ever, the whole building buzzing with anticipation and excitement. Yuuri could hear whispers telling of Viktor’s arrival in Hasetsu wherever he went. It seemed everyone in town was talking about the party that evening. All of the hotels in town were booked, and had been for weeks. At long last, the party was about to begin.

Yuuri, however, refused to go anywhere near the convention center. His family and friends had been pestering him about attending ever since the Prix ended, but Yuuri's mind was made up.

Customers began to trickle out around five PM, returning to their hotels or making their way towards the venue. Yuuri volunteered to clean up the lobby with his mother. Anything to get his mind off of the party.

They worked in comfortable silence. Yuuri put all of his attention into sweeping. It was working, too. There was nothing on his mind other than the sound of the brush against the floor. If he thought about it, it almost sounded like the scrape of a skate against the ice. Yuuri could hear the music in his mind, saw the flashing lights and the crowd and Viktor’s smiling face—

Dammit.

“Yuuri?” his mom said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Yuuri jumped slightly. He hadn't heard her come over.

“Uh, yes?”

His mother looked at him with a concerned expression. Yuuri felt ashamed, and he didn't even know why. Finally she asked, “Are you happy?”

Yuuri blinked. That wasn't what he'd been expecting. The only thing he'd been asked lately was whether or not he was going to Viktor’s party, and the change was nice. But was he happy?

Yuuri guessed he'd taken too long to answer, because his mother wrapped him into a hug. “Oh Yuuri,” she murmured.

Yuuri patted her on the back awkwardly. He appreciated her trying to “help”, he really did, but in that moment all he wanted was to get away.

“I'm fine, Mom, really,” he insisted, struggling to get free. She finally let him go with a warm smile and a squeeze on the arm.

“Please, tell me if something is bothering you.”

“I will, don't worry.”

She watched him for a second longer. Yuuri felt like he was being cross examined in court; with all of his fidgeting, he'd probably make a terrible witness. Then she turned back to her cleaning.

Yuuri rushed to finish his sweeping and escaped the resort in under ten minutes. He had to get away, he had to just take a second and breathe. Instead of going to the rink, he went for a walk, and wound up at the garden near the Ice Castle.

The sun had set by that point. It was past seven, and the party was bound to be in full swing. The cold December wind blew around Yuuri, biting at his ears and cheeks, and he wished he'd had the foresight to throw on a warmer jacket. Snow was falling gently around him. The night was beautiful.

Yuuri sat on the bench. His entire frame seemed to deflate the second he sat. He hunched over and dropped his head into his hands.

He wanted to be at the gala. He wanted to see Viktor, even though he would never get noticed by his hero. He just wanted to try.

Tears began to blur Yuuri's vision. He buried his face deeper into his hands, trying to muffle the noise of his sobs.

Without warning a hand clapped him on the back, hard. Yuuri was taken by surprise for the second time that day, and he fell off the bench into the snow. Yuuri blinked away tears to see a boy about his age looking down at him with a smile.

“Uhh…”

“Yuuri, you are _going_ to this party.”

That was how Yuuri met Phichit.

“What?” Yuuri asked. Where had this guy come from? He clearly wasn't Japanese, and he spoke English with a slight accent.

“I'm here to help you win the boy of your dreams,” said the guy, beaming. “My name is Phichit.”

“I'm… Yuuri, but… you already knew that,” Yuuri said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Uh, where did you…?”

“So!” Phichit clapped his hands. “You wanna go to the gala, right?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Well, yeah, but it's already started and I don't—”

“You'll need an outfit for sure,” hummed Phichit, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Something colorful, maybe?”

“Hang on, did you say the ‘boy of my dreams?’”

“Or maybe something more subtle…”

“No wait, listen, I'm not in love with—”

“Yuuri, you've had his posters on your wall since the day you heard about him, of course you're in love with Viktor.”

_“How the hell did you know—”_

“Ooh, I've got it!” Phichit said at last, snapping his fingers excitedly.

“Can you listen for a sec?!” Yuuri asked hotly. He was cold and wet from sitting in the snow, he was upset about the party, and this stranger wasn't explaining anything. Yuuri felt very tired.

“Oops. Sorry,” said Phichit, extending a hand and pulling Yuuri to his feet. He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. Yuuri took a deep breath to calm himself.

“Listen. I do want to go, and I do want to meet Viktor. But I'm not a great skater, not like everyone else there. I couldn't even qualify for the Grand Prix Final. I'm just… not good enough,” Yuuri finished. His anxiety had returned in full force, and he felt the sting of tears in his eyes again.

Phichit was quiet for a moment, watching Yuuri. Then he nodded. “Alright, so Yuuri Katsuki can't go. But someone else could.”

“What does that mean?” Yuuri asked, bemused.

Phichit grasped his hands. “You can go to the party wearing a mask, no one will know who you are!”

“What?!”

“You'll be someone totally new, no reputations to worry about! And if you get a reputation at the party, well, it won't matter once you take off the mask! It's practically foolproof!”

Yuuri thought it over. It wasn't foolproof. Someone might still recognize him, or his mask might get pulled off, or he might get laughed at for even _having_ a mask. But he had to admit, Phichit’s idea provided a way to go to the party relatively unnoticed. If no one knew who he was, how could he be judged?

Hope grew within Yuuri, and with it came confidence. Yuuri smiled for the first time that night, watery but hopeful. “Okay, I'll do it.”

Phichit laughed with glee. “Alright, just close your eyes for me!”

It occurred to Yuuri as he was closing his eyes that Phichit had no way of actually getting him a costume or mask. The shops were probably all closed, and that's assuming they weren't out of stock already.

“Phichit, I don't know if this is a good idea…” Yuuri started. A fierce gust of wind cut him off. It swirled around him hard enough to knock his glasses off, and Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

The wind lasted a few more seconds, and then all was still. Tentatively, Yuuri cracked open an eye. Phichit was staring back at him happily. Yuuri opened his other eye and glanced down at himself. Oh, wow.

The first thing he noticed was that his jacket was much warmer than he remembered. The second thing he noticed was that he was apparently wearing contacts, as his vision was clear though his glasses were nowhere to be seen. The third thing he noticed was that his clothes had been replaced with a sparkling, beautiful skating costume under a large coat.

Yuuri snapped his head black up to meet Phichit’s eyes. “What— how?!”

Phichit grinned. “Guess you could call me your fairy wingman, or something. I'm here to make your dreams come true.” 

“What?! But that’s not even a thing, how can magic—”

“Look, we could argue about the existence magic all night, or you could go to this party,” Phichit said, rolling his eyes. His expression became more serious. “But, this is all gonna wear off at midnight. If you don't want everyone knowing your identity, make sure you get away before the time turns to 12:01. Oh, and take these.”

Phichit took one of Yuuri’s hands and dropped two golden rings into his open palm. Yuuri was beyond confused.

“Aren't these…?”

“Good luck charms!” Phichit smiled. He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless you feel like proposing to someone…”

“N-no!”

“Haha. In any case, these won't disappear at midnight, so keep them close.”

Yuuri examined the rings. They were plain, just two golden bands. He slipped one onto each of his ring fingers.

“Phichit, thank you,” he said. He really meant it, too. Phichit hit his shoulder lightly.

“It's what I'm here for. Oh, and here’s the mask, too. Now go get to that party!”

“I will! And I'll be back before midnight!” Yuuri said as he started to run, his coat flapping behind him. Phichit smiled fondly as he watched the skater grow smaller in the distance.

Yuuri looked over the mask as he waited for the bus to take him into town. It was black and shiny, like his costume. There were a few feathers on each side, but not enough to look silly. As the sound of the approaching bus grew louder, Yuuri slipped the mask onto his face and boarded the vehicle.

Alone with his thoughts, Yuuri was starting to rethink the whole thing. He was going to the party, but then what. Should he walk straight up to Viktor and start a conversation? Should he dance with other people and try and get his attention? Neither of those seemed likely, not to Yuuri anyway. More than likely he'd find himself in the corner watching the party and drinking champagne alone. Not a fun time.

Yuuri was jolted from his thoughts when the bus stopped; he'd reached his destination. He stepped off the bus and stared up at the bright lights of the venue. A large crowd was gathered near the building, reporters and fans alike drawn by the event. Yuuri gulped when he saw the check in; how was he supposed to get in without giving away his name?

At that moment one of the attendants waved him over, and Yuuri was surprised to discover that it was Phichit.

“I left you at the garden,” Yuuri said. “How did you get here before me?”

“Don't sweat the details. Here, have a wristband, I'll walk you in.”

Phichit tied a wristband around Yuuri’s arm to ensure he would be allowed in, and then he led Yuuri inside. The murmur of voices grew louder as they approached the hall where the party was being held. Yuuri’s nerves were acting up.

“Phichit,” he started. “I don't know if—”

“You're already here, Yuuri. Look, you made it!” Phichit gestured to the hall, filled with colorful costumes and beautiful people. “If you really don't want to talk to Viktor, then fine. Just try to have a good time, alright?”

Phichit's words settled Yuuri’s fears a little, and he nodded. He flushed when the boy continued: “Though, if you do manage to get some, I definitely wanna know.”

_“Phichit!”_ he hissed, shoving Phichit lightly. Phichit's laughter rang out.

“Alright, alright. Here, let me take your coat.”

Yuuri shrugged off the jacket and handed it to Phichit, who hung it in a coat room off to the side. Yuuri took the chance to properly examine his costume and slicked-back hair in the mirror. He gulped.

The costume was mainly black with sheer fabric in some parts. A skirt-like piece of fabric began at Yuuri's waist, and there were silvery, reflective accents on his shoulder and above the skirt.

“Phichit.”

“Yep.”

“This is one of Viktor’s costumes.”

“Well, it isn't the _same_ one, it's not like I stole it—”

“Phichit. It's Viktor’s costume’s design.”

“Yep.”

“I can't wear this!” Yuuri protested as he followed Phichit out into the main hall.

“Sure you can! This is you, wearing a costume based off Viktor’s,” shrugged Phichit. Yuuri dragged a hand down his face.

“It's not _based off_ anything! It's literally the same design!”

“It'll be fine, stop worrying so much. Now get out there!” Phichit pushed Yuuri to the edge of the room and dashed off with a wave. Yuuri resisted the urge to chase after him, and instead turned towards the party. No one had noticed him yet, there was still time to bail if he really wanted to.

Yuuri breathed deeply. No, Phichit was right. He'd made it this far, he could let himself enjoy the party. Yuuri raised his head high and entered the room.

A few people looked at him with interest. Yuuri heard a few people whispering as he passed by.

“...wearing a mask?”

“That costume’s familiar…”

“Looks like Viktor's, doesn't it?”

Yuuri took a shaky breath and walked on. Unsurprisingly he ended up exactly where he expected he would: by the champagne. He downed one glass as fast as socially acceptable and was reaching for another when he happened to look up. The second his hand closed around a glass his eyes made contact with someone else's across the room. Yuuri’s breath caught. He'd recognize those blue eyes and silver hair anywhere.

Yuuri forced his gaze to drop to the table, breaking the contact with Viktor. He hadn't even been here for five minutes and he'd already embarrassed himself. Did Viktor think he was staring? Yuuri hadn't meant to catch his eye like that, really. Maybe if he stared at the ground hard enough it would swallow him up.

Whispers began to grow louder and more excited around Yuuri, and he hesitantly raised his head to see what was happening. He couldn't believe it. Viktor was moving through the crowds of people, and he was headed in Yuuri’s direction.

Yuuri stared to panic. Oh god. Viktor was coming over to him. Was he offended by the costume? Would he laugh? Why did Phichit have to be like this—

Viktor came to a stop just a few feet in front of Yuuri. Yuuri held his breath. God, Viktor was even more beautiful in person. His blue eyes sparkled. His costume, the same magenta one from the Grand Prix, shined.

“I don't think we've met,” Viktor spoke in English, his voice softer than Yuuri was expecting. Yuuri cleared his throat.

“Um. No, we haven't. I'm…” Yuuri trailed off. The whole point of him coming was that no one would know him, he couldn't reveal himself now! Instead he continued, sounding more confident than he really felt, “I’m an admirer.”

Well. Might as well get it all out in the open.

Viktor smiled charmingly. “Admirer, hmm? I can see that,” he said, glancing down at Yuuri’s outfit. Yuuri's face felt very warm.

“I'm… here to try out,” Yuuri said, attempting to change the subject. Viktor's gaze returned to his face. He seemed to assess Yuuri for a minute before nodding.

“Well then. Show me what you're capable of.”

“Show…” Yuuri cut himself off with a quiet gasp as Viktor held out a hand to him. Yuuri’s eyes flickered from the hand to Viktor’s face, and back to the hand.

Yuuri could almost hear Phichit cheering him on in his head. “C’mon Yuuri, you've got this!” Yuuri bit his lip nervously before taking a quick breath and accepting the hand. 

Viktor pulled him away from the edge of the room, more towards the center. Yuuri was hyper aware of all the people staring at him in confusion and jealousy. He didn't understand, hadn't Viktor danced with someone already? There was no time to dwell on that though, as Viktor came to a halt. 

A song had just started to play, and Viktor put a hand on Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri took a breath and grasped Viktor's other hand. And off they went.

Yuuri had no idea how he managed it. His fears about tripping up, about being so close to his idol, about being judged by the crowd surrounding them; they all should have affected him. Yuuri knew just how poorly he usually handled performing when he wasn't focused.

But somehow his fears became quieter in his head the longer he danced. He was dancing with Viktor Nikiforov, dammit, he was already closer to the man than he ever thought he'd be. _Forget the crowd, forget the partnership,_ he told himself. _Dance._

And he did. By some miracle Yuuri found himself in Viktor's arms, still on his feet at the end of the song, panting slightly. He remembered stumbling a few times, but all those mistakes flew to the back of his mind when Viktor smiled at him. Not the same one as before, but a genuine, satisfied smile. Yuuri felt dazed.

Wordlessly they started up again as the music began once more. Yuuri let himself be lost in the movements, in the way Viktor’s eyes shined when they moved together. They danced for what seemed like forever. The party gradually turned its attention away from the two skaters.

Yuuri did have a limit though, and as much as he wanted to continue (and didn't want to give up Viktor) he was tired. So after he and Viktor came to the end of a song, he excused himself.

He'd intended to leave Viktor behind and let him talk with other people, fearing he was hogging Viktor's attention. However, Viktor insisted on accompanying him, to Yuuri’s surprise and delight.

“You don't have to, really,” Yuuri said, waving his hands in front of himself. Viktor shook his head.

“I want to,” he replied. Yuuri's lips twitched up in a smile. 

They weaved through the partygoers and found a spot off to the side to stand. Viktor turned to Yuuri.

“I'll be honest, I wasn't sure what to expect when I asked you to dance,” Viktor started. Yuuri turned his gaze away from the party to look at him. “But you surprised me.”

“I surprised myself,” admitted Yuuri.

Yuuri heard Viktor hum. Silence fell between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It gave Yuuri time to process everything that had happened since he'd arrived. Amazing, how much could happen in only a few hours.

...Actually, what time _was_ it? Yuuri had neglected to take his phone with him when he had gone out to the garden, and he didn't see a clock anywhere. His heartbeat began to speed up as he remembered Phichit’s warning.

“You wouldn't happen to know what time it is, would you?” he asked Viktor, trying to appear calmer than he felt. Viktor frowned and pulled out his phone. He looked at it and said, “It's nearly 11:00, why?”

Yuuri thought for a few moments. He still had an hour before his time was up, he could stay for a while without too much trouble. But then again, it could take some time to get back to the hot springs, and he wasn't sure if his family had noticed his absence. They might be worried about him…

“I've got to go,” Yuuri decided, putting down his drink and scanning the room for the exit. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait!” Viktor put a hand on Yuuri's arm, stopping him in his tracks. Yuuri looked at Viktor in surprise.

Viktor looked unsure, maybe even lost. “You never told me your name.”

Yuuri pursed his lips. He wanted to tell Viktor. But he wasn't sure it was wise. Viktor liked him now— apparently, which was unbelievable to Yuuri— but would he really like the insecure, quiet person he truly was? The minute he left Viktor would be able to search his name and find him. Yuuri couldn't risk it. But… he might be able to get away for now, if he played his hand right.

Mustering up all his courage, Yuuri leaned close to Viktor. “I can't tell you now. But, you could ask me again tomorrow night.”

Yuuri pulled back slowly, wearing a small smirk. Viktor looked taken aback. _Nailed it,_ Yuuri thought.

Then he decided to one-up himself, removing Viktor’s hand from his arm and kissing it lightly. He felt the hand twitch under his lips, and hoped that was a good sign and not a bad one.

Looking back up at Viktor’s astonished face, Yuuri decided it was definitely a good one. He took advantage of Viktor's surprise to slip into the crowd and make his way back to the coat room. Yuuri's face burned the whole way, but he couldn't stop smiling. He retrieved his jacket and left the building.

A bus picked him up a block from the venue and took him back to his home. By the time Yuuri got home he could tell it was nearly midnight, and he slipped into his room without being noticed.

His bedside clock said 11:57. Perfect. Yuuri locked his door and flopped onto the bed, suddenly exhausted. His feet hurt and his muscles ached, but Yuuri felt more satisfied than he had in months.

He'd actually talked to Viktor Nikiforov! Not only that, he'd also _danced_ with him! A huge grin spread across Yuuri's face.

A gust of wind blew through Yuuri's room then, and he flinched. When he reopened his eyes, he found himself back in his normal clothes and wearing his glasses. Only the rings remained. Yuuri patted down his clothes frantically. So it was magic, after all. In all the excitement, he'd barely registered it; he'd have to ask Phichit later.

Later. There was going to _be_ a later. Yuuri stared up at the ceiling and wondered how the next night would go. He removed his glasses and the two rings, setting them all on his bedside table. Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep to thoughts of music and dancing, and a familiar hand in his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it was unclear, Yuuri wore his short program costume, the one Viktor wore when he was younger. And Viktor wears his pink Stammi Vicino costume all three nights.


	3. Night 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri returns, and it's even better than the first night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys talk a little bit.

Yuuri stumbled into the kitchen just past 6:30 AM, bleary-eyed and disoriented. He didn't usually go to bed past 9:00, but last night had of course been a _big_ exception. Yuuri bumped into no less than four separate pieces of furniture (and apologized to them all) before he became aware of the presence of another person in the room.

“Long night?” Mari snickered. Yuuri squinted at her angrily, too tired to do much else.

“Couldn't sleep,” he mumbled as he shuffled over to the cabinets and began rummaging through them.

Mari whistled when he pulled out a mug and poured himself some coffee. “You must have had a _really_ rough night if you're willing to drink coffee.”

Yuuri took a sip and winced at the taste. He wasn't usually one for coffee, but he would suck it up for today. In the meantime, Yuuri closed his eyes and let himself be lost in the memories from the previous night. 

_“Yuuri!!”_

There was a loud crash and a yelp as something entered the kitchen. Yuuri jumped three feet in the air and spilled coffee down his shirt. Immediately he turned towards the sink and started trying to rub out the stain. He was definitely awake now.

“What the hell, Minako?!” he yelled at the woman, who had run into the doorframe at high speed trying to turn from the hallway into the room. Minako rubbed her shoulder and winced, but held another newspaper out to Yuuri.

“You are not gonna believe this.”

Yuuri took the paper and unfolded it. Immediately he was faced with the headline in big bold text: _Mystery Man Steals Show at Skate Gathering._

Yuuri gripped the paper tighter as his eyes fell onto the accompanying photo. There he stood, in the middle of one of his dances with Viktor. The article went on to describe how the “mystery man” had shown up out of nowhere, enticed Viktor to dance for hours on end, and disappeared as quickly as he'd come. Yuuri wanted to laugh at the irony of him “bewitching” Viktor into dancing; Yuuri had been anything but smooth during that first conversation.

“A mystery guy?” Yuuri finally spoke, raising his head from the paper.

“Yeah, he apparently swept Viktor off of his feet. Y’know, maybe if you'd gone you could have gotten to Viktor first,” Minako winked before retreating from the kitchen. Yuuri buried his face in the paper to suppress both the urge to laugh and his rising blush.

The day dragged on and on for Yuuri. He busied himself around the hot springs for most of the day, then decided to kill time at the Ice Castle.

Yuuko was rearranging the skates when he showed up. She greeted him with a smile as he approached the counter.

“You look a little tired, trouble sleeping?” she asked. Yuuri shrugged.

“Something like that.”

Yuuko hummed. “Oh, did you hear about the mystery guy at Viktor’s party?”

“...It's been mentioned to me.”

“It's amazing, huh? Someone getting Viktor's undivided attention like that.”

Yuuri smiled to himself. “Yeah, it's unbelievable.”

“I wonder if Viktor’s gonna partner skate with him, then,” Yuuko said, mostly to herself. To Yuuri she said, “You're welcome to skate if you want, though you won't be the only one. Looks like some of the professionals want to stay on top of their game while they're here.”

Yuuri pursed his lips and thought. Then he shook his head. “No, that's alright. If there's that many people here, then I'll just get going.”

He waved to Yuuko and exited through the doors. Damn. He'd wanted to practice, but if there were that many skaters already then he'd rather stay away. Yuuri checked his phone: it was 3:27. The party wouldn't start for another few hours still.

Yuuri gave up and returned home, where he attempted to nap in preparation for that night. It was futile. His mind was drowning in possibilities. He would probably dance with Viktor again tonight if he could, but what else? Would Viktor ask to be his partner on the spot? Yuuri was pretty successful at keeping it together the previous night, but what if he cracked this time and embarrassed himself big time?

Yuuri sat up in bed and did his best to shake all the thoughts from his brain. He checked his phone again: 5:49. The party technically started at six, but Yuuri definitely didn't want to be the first one there. Still, it was probably time to get ready.

Yuuri went and told his parents he was feeling tired, and that he was going to have an early night. His dad wished him goodnight after asking if he felt okay and his mom, after being reassured that it was just a headache and Yuuri would be fine, did the same. Yuuri closed the door to his room and turned off the lights, praying that no one would come to check on him during the evening. He took the rings but decided to leave his phone, fearing that someone might go through his things in the coat room while he was at the party.

Yuuri peeked his head out the door and listened. There was no sound in the hallway aside from his own breathing. As quietly as he could Yuuri stalked down the hall and descended down the stairs. There was a close call when Yuuri’s father rounded a corner unexpectedly, but lucky for Yuuri he was focused on the stack of towels he carried and Yuuri was able to duck into a side room. Finally Yuuri slipped outside and made his way to the garden.

Phichit was waiting for him. “How did it go last night?”

Yuuri rubbed his neck, suddenly embarrassed. “We danced. It was nice. And then I, uh. Kissed his hand.”

“You _what?!”_ shrieked Phichit, jaw dropping. He looked ecstatic.

“It was nothing serious, really!” Yuuri protested, though he knew his red face gave everything away. Phichit grabbed Yuuri’s hands and spun him around in excitement.

“Yuuri, that's incredible!” he laughed. Suddenly he released Yuuri's hands, nearly sending him tripping over the bench. “Oh! It isn't over yet though, I've gotta get you ready for tonight!”

Yuuri took a second to balance himself, then closed his eyes. He felt the wind rushing him like before, and when he opened his eyes he found himself wearing a two-piece skating costume, dark purple with colorful highlights. Phichit handed Yuuri a mask to match.

“No copycat costume tonight?” Yuuri asked.

“I'm saving that for tomorrow,” Phichit winked. Yuuri groaned. “Go get ‘em!” he grinned, tying a band around Yuuri's wrist like the previous night and giving him a light shove. Yuuri grinned despite himself and took off down the street.

He entered the building about half an hour later, stowing his coat away before stepping into the main room. 

To be honest, he wasn't sure what to do next. He wanted to go find Viktor, but he had no clue where the man might be. And what about when he did find him? Would it be too straightforward to just walk up to Viktor and start a conversation? Yuuri wished he'd planned a little in advance.

A hand tapped Yuuri's shoulder, and he turned, finding himself face-to-face with Viktor himself. 

“I was hoping you would come back,” he said. Yuuri blinked in surprise, wondering how Viktor had found him so quickly, but recovered and flashed Viktor a small smile.

“I keep my promises,” Yuuri said as he offered his hand to Viktor. He led Viktor to the center of the room, and they began to dance.

It was just as magical as it had been the previous night. Yuuri totally lost track of time, his attention focused completely on Viktor. He felt more at ease than he had yesterday, enough to take charge and dance the lead after a few songs. Viktor looked delighted.

At some point Viktor leaned in close and asked, “How would you feel about a drink?” His breath tickled Yuuri's ear. It made the hairs on the back of Yuuri's neck stand up. He nodded his agreement.

Yuuri let himself be guided towards the edge of the room. Several people came up to talk to Viktor on the way there, but he only smiled and spared a few apologetic words before turning them away.

“I'm distracting you, aren't I?” Yuuri asked when they reached the drinks table. “You're here to find a partner, I don't want to get in your way.”

“Nonsense!” declared Viktor, handing Yuuri a glass. “I'll find someone, eventually. I'm enjoying your company right now.”

Yuuri sputtered. Viktor smiled.

Yuuri took a sip of his drink to buy time. He asked Viktor, “So… why the party?” Viktor tilted his head, and Yuuri elaborated. “Well, you're here to find a partner for pair skating, but why? And you probably know lots of qualified people already, why throw a big celebration like this?”

Viktor’s fingers tapped against his glass. “I assume you've seen my performances, being my ‘admirer.’ Tell me, what's something that strikes you about them?”

_Perfection,_ Yuuri thought first. Instead he said, “Surprise, I think. You try to catch the audience off guard.”

Viktor nodded. “Exactly. What better way to take it a step further than try my hand at a new area of competitive skating? And it's the same reasoning behind why I decided to look for a partner outside of my close colleagues; I wanted to do the opposite of what people expected.”

Then, Viktor gestured to Yuuri's face. “I've been wondering, why do you wear that? It's not a masquerade party, you know,” he joked.

Yuuri touched the mask. He’d mostly forgotten about it until Viktor reminded him. “Oh. I was hesitant about coming here yesterday, even though I wanted to, but a… friend suggested it. He said being anonymous might make it easier, and it did.”

“Why the hesitation though? You seem right at home with me,” Viktor asked.

Yuuri fumbled with his words momentarily before getting a grip on them again. How could he say that so _casually?_

“I lack confidence. I've… always been scared of failing, of disappointing people. It's happened so often,” Yuuri said, staring at the floor. “But with you— uh, while dancing I felt like there was no pressure on me. At least for a little while.”

“I'm glad to hear that, then.”

The conversation became less heavy from there. Yuuri was careful not to reveal anything too personal, but he brightened up when Viktor mentioned his dog off-handedly.

“Oh, Makkachin?” Yuuri asked.

“Right! Do you have a dog?” Viktor asked, suddenly excited.

“Yeah— no. Um, I used to have a poodle too, but…” Yuuri’s voice trailed off. He cursed himself for bringing up the subject.

“Oh. I'm sorry,” Viktor laid a hand on Yuuri's shoulder comfortingly.

“It was hard. He was a really good dog.”

“What was his name?”

Yuuri froze. Shit, he did not think this through _at all._

“It was, um. Viktor. We called him Vicchan.”

Viktor’s mouth opened, then closed. His face twitched. It was obvious he was trying to hold back laughter. Yuuri sighed.

“Yes, I named him after you,” he grumbled. Viktor burst out laughing, unable to contain himself. Yuuri couldn't stay mad after that.

“It's cute,” Viktor said once he'd calmed down some, still giggling. Yuuri huffed in pretend aggravation.

The night continued on like that. Someone would broach a topic, and they'd spend several minutes discussing and teasing. Yuuri was having more fun than he could ever recall in recent history. He really didn't want to go when Viktor told him the time upon his request. But he only had half an hour until midnight, and it wouldn't be good for him to lose track of time and suddenly transform in the middle of a conversation.

“I should be going,” he told Viktor. The man pouted.

“Already? The party will still be going for a few hours…”

“I know. I've got to get home though. I'll be back tomorrow.”

Viktor frowned for a moment longer. Then, he kissed Yuuri's cheek lightly.

“I look forward to it.”

The spot on his cheek tingled long after he left the party, and Yuuri felt like he was floating the entire way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, the costume is Yuuri's free skate outfit. Can you guess what's up next?


	4. Night 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri finds that things go a bit unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this one. Things reach a peak, and then plummet horribly.

Yuuri woke up feeling an odd mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. It had been past midnight by the time he'd returned home and collapsed into bed. He stared into space, thinking about his conversation with Viktor. A small smile appeared on his face. Yuuri Katsuki had made small talk with Viktor Nikiforov without making a fool of himself. And, they'd bonded over dogs and katsudon. That was awesome.

He laid in bed for several more minutes, reluctant to get up and function like a normal person on such little sleep. Finally he tossed off the covers and padded down the hall and stairs.

His mother was the first to greet him as he entered the kitchen. “Morning, Yuuri.”

Yuuri mumbled something incoherent in return and reached for the coffee pot. His mom raised her eyebrows.

“Did that headache ever go away?” she asked, feeling his forehead. Yuuri waved her hand away.

“Headache?” Yuuri repeated, confused. Then he remembered. “Ah— right. Eventually.” He poured himself some coffee and braced himself for the taste.

“Well, if you're up for it I'd like you to help at the front desk.”

“Okay,” Yuuri replied. His mother patted his head and left the kitchen. Yuuri smiled into his mug.

He returned upstairs to shower and dress before joining his dad behind the desk in the lobby. Over the course of the morning he slowly grew more awake, and by midday Yuuri felt mostly normal. 

Unfortunately, the day went even more slowly than it had yesterday. Yuuri was super anxious for evening to arrive. Apparently his impatience was obvious, since his dad let him off desk duty early, around 4:00.

“Go do whatever it is you're so worked up about,” he laughed. Yuuri thanked him and retreated to his bedroom. There were still three hours to kill. Yuuri grabbed his phone from the desk and swiped it open. Seeing the notification for a message, he opened his texts.

Minako: MYSTERY MAN SHOWED UP AGAIN LAST NIGHT AT THE PARTY

Yuuri snorted but didn't reply. Instead he opened up Instagram and scrolled through his feed. Several people he followed were apparently in town for the event, and there were pictures of the celebration and selfies with other skaters. But it was Viktor's posts that really caught his eye. There were only a few pictures from the party: one was a selfie from the first night, one was a group shot, and one was of Yuuri from last night.

Yuuri stared. When had Viktor taken _that?_ The Yuuri in the photo was looking off to the side, unaware of Viktor's camera. He seemed to be in the middle of speaking, his face bright. He looked happy. Under the photo, Viktor had captioned it with a heart emoji.

A heart. Oh god, a _heart._ What did Viktor mean by that? Was he saying Yuuri looked cute? Was it a romantic gesture? Was it just a generic caption? Did it mean anything?!

Yuuri groaned and shoved his face into his pillow. He couldn't ignore that Viktor had been giving off signals to him. Or maybe Yuuri was just overthinking it? Yuuri felt lost.

He lifted his head to stare at the picture again. The caption was just as confusing as it had been before. Yuuri scrolled to see some of the comments on the photo. There were the usual excited comments from people declaring their love for him. But there were also comments about Yuuri himself.

_OMG is that the mystery guy?!?!_

_How can he take Viktor away from us like this T.T_

_O.o he cute_

_Who tf is he????_

On and on. There were similar comments on the other posts too. Yuuri had become a sensation.

Yuuri looked through the comments sections for ages. When he glanced at the time, he was shocked to see it was past six.

“Shit!” he cursed, jumping up from the bed. He spared only a second to grab the rings before bolting out of his room.

“Woah, slow down!” yelped Mari when he nearly ran into her. “Where're you going?”

“Meeting a friend,” Yuuri said without thinking. He squeezed past her and yelled over his shoulder, “I'll be home late.”

“Who is it though?” Mari called after him. Yuuri didn't answer.

He was breathing hard by the time he got to the garden. Yuuri bent over and braced his hands on his knees, struggling to take the chilly air into his lungs.

“You seem eager,” Phichit said. Yuuri looked up to find the boy standing over him with a smug grin. “How'd it go last night?”

“We talked, mostly,” Yuuri said. He averted his eyes and smiled. “He kissed my cheek when I left.”

Phichit didn't say anything. Yuuri looked back at him and found Phichit clasping his hands, eyes closed.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Phichit murmured. Yuuri smacked his arm.

“Be serious!” Yuuri scolded, though he was laughing. Phichit snorted before straightening up.

“Alright, last night. Let's make it a good one.”

The wind swirled around Yuuri once more. He opened his eyes and examined himself. The costume consisted of a black collared shirt and pants. Over the shirt Yuuri wore a blue jacket, decorated with silver highlights.

“...Phichit.”

“Mhmm?”

“This is Viktor's free skate costume.”

“No it's not. It's blue.”

_“Phichit.”_

“Listen, don't worry about it. You've got a party to get to, c’mon.”

_Dammit Phichit,_ Yuuri thought exasperatedly. “Alright, okay, I’m going.”

Phichit beamed and gave Yuuri his mask and wristband. “Have a nice night. And keep in touch, you've got my number.”

“Huh?” Yuuri asked, and dug his phone from his outer jacket pocket. He scrolled through his contacts, where he indeed found Phichit's name and an accompanying number.

“How—” began Yuuri before cutting himself off. Phichit had vanished. Magic. Right. It was time for him to get going, too.

Yuuri was impatient the entire ride downtown. He was already later than he'd planned to be. The second the bus pulled to a stop in front of the venue, Yuuri was hurtling down the aisle.

His familiarity with the building after two consecutive nights paid off; he was in and out of the coat room in record time. Anxiously he looked around the dance hall. His eyes scanned the room, finally spotting Viktor in conversation with a lovely-looking lady. The woman laughed at something Viktor said, and Viktor smiled.

Yuuri felt a spark of jealousy. Which was stupid, he had no right to feel that way, Viktor wasn't his. That didn't stop him from ducking through the masses of people and approaching the pair. Yuuri touched Viktor's shoulder.

The man turned and fixed his eyes on Yuuri. His smile began to grow, but it soon transformed into an expression of awe as he examined the rest of Yuuri's appearance.

“You wouldn't mind me stealing you away for a bit, would you?” Yuuri asked, his heart pounding. He'd forgotten about the matching outfits in his rush to get to Viktor. Hopefully Viktor wouldn't think it was weird.

Viktor accepted Yuuri's hand. “Not at all.”

Half of Yuuri hoped the lady wouldn't be too angry. The other half didn't care.

They danced and danced, trading off the lead every few minutes. The songs blurred together as the backdrop for the cheesy romcom that seemed to be Yuuri's life. He didn't really mind that.

As always, hours passed without his knowledge. Yuuri asked Viktor to join him for a chat, and Viktor obliged.

“Lovely costume,” Viktor commented as they drifted away from the other dancers. Yuuri buried his face in his hands.

“I like it,” chuckled Viktor, reaching out to squeeze Yuuri's shoulder. Yuuri whined regardless.

An alarm sounded suddenly, causing Yuuri to jump. Viktor dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Oh. Fifteen minutes till the new year,” he remarked, silencing the phone and stowing it away again. Yuuri's eyes widened.

“Wha— already?” he said, shocked. How long had they been dancing?

“Something wrong?”

“I-I've got to go,” said Yuuri apologetically. Viktor frowned slightly.

“May I walk you out, at least?” Viktor asked, his hand still on Yuuri's shoulder. Yuuri considered it for a moment.

“Alright,” he nodded. I have to get my coat first, though.” With that, he took Viktor's hand and led him away from the party. Yuuri felt a small burst of pride at how easy it had become for him to make small gestures like that; the idea of casually holding Viktor's hand like this would have seemed next to impossible four days ago.

The hall was completely empty aside from the two of them. They walked in silence to the coat room. Yuuri released Viktor's hand as he entered, and he located his jacket without too much trouble.

“Here,” Viktor murmured, moving to hold the jacket. Yuuri allowed him to slip it onto his shoulders. He turned to face Viktor and thank him, and it only then occurred to him how close together they were.

Viktor’s face hovered just inches from Yuuri's, his gaze unmoving. Their chests were just a hair’s width apart. Viktor's hand still rested on Yuuri's arm from helping with the coat. The atmosphere of the small room felt strained, as though the slightest change would unleash a tidal wave of emotion.

Yuuri struggled to regulate his breathing; it wasn't working. Viktor's eyes were half-lidded, and it took Yuuri several moments to realize that it wasn't just his own breathing that sounded heavy.

Viktor leaned closer; Yuuri's breath hitched in his throat. He might actually die if the tension kept up.

Viktor's voice was impeccably soft when he spoke. “I want to…”

_“Yes,”_ Yuuri breathed.

Viktor pressed his lips to Yuuri's with no further hesitation, closing the sliver of space between them and gripping Yuuri's upper arms. Yuuri's head was swimming with sensation, but he had enough sense left to close his eyes and place his hands at the base of Viktor's neck. The kiss was nothing more than the movement of lips, an expression of longing and connection. Yuuri would have been content to kiss like this for the rest of his life.

But, longing turned to desperation. Yuuri felt Viktor begin to move; an arm wrapped around Yuuri's waist and pulled him closer, and Viktor's other hand pressed against the back of Yuuri's head and held him in place. Viktor tilted his head slightly and caught Yuuri's bottom lip between his. Yuuri's breath stuttered, his heartbeat was frantic. He pulled back to breathe for barely a second, unwilling to part from the man for any length of time, before he met Viktor's mouth once more. 

This time, Yuuri attempted to take charge. He wound his fingers into Viktor's hair and stood on tiptoes to get level with the man, trying to catch him off guard enough for— there, an opening. Yuuri took advantage of Viktor's surprised gasp to slip his tongue into his mouth.

Immediately Viktor's grip on Yuuri's head tightened, pulling at his short hair. Yuuri barely registered the pain, focused solely on exploring every inch of Viktor's mouth. Viktor appeared to finally regain his wits, as suddenly Yuuri's tongue was met with another. Their tongues slid together and Viktor managed to overpower Yuuri, forcing his own way into Yuuri's mouth.

The heat of Viktor's tongue combined with the feel of it gliding and prodding in Yuuri's mouth was heavenly. Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let out a low moan.

The sound appeared to flip a switch in Viktor; he moved his hands to grip the front of Yuuri's jacket and pushed him backwards until Yuuri’s back hit the closed door. His lips parted from Yuuri's momentarily and Yuuri gasped in air, his chest heaving. When Viktor didn't attack his mouth again, he slowly opened his eyes.

The sight that greeted him nearly had Yuuri on his knees. Viktor was breathing just as heavily as Yuuri, his skin flushed and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration. His swollen lips were parted and slicked with saliva. Yuuri's hands had ruffled Viktor's hair, and silver strands stuck up in various places. It gave the appearance of— dare he think it— sex hair, and Yuuri wanted nothing more than to pull Viktor back down to his level and ravish him further.

Viktor had other plans. In one fluid movement he stepped forward to press his body against Yuuri's, effectively trapping him against the door. He lifted a hand to cradle the side of Yuuri’s head and braced the other hand on the door. Yuuri's legs almost gave out as Viktor nosed the collar of his shirt out of the way and pressed a line of warm kisses to his collarbone.

The pace had slowed down significantly, but it was no less intense than before. Yuuri let out a long, shaky sigh as Viktor mouthed at his neck. He let his head drop to Viktor's shoulder, giving the man further access to his neck. Yuuri's hands dropped from Viktor's hair to grip at his shirt.

Yuuri's eyes eventually fluttered open, and he found himself faced with the exposed skin peeking over Viktor's collar. Narrowing his eyes, he decided two could play at this game. Yuuri surged forwards and latched onto a spot on Viktor's neck, extremely satisfied by the groan he received in return. Yuuri nipped and sucked the skin until he'd left behind a decent-sized red mark. He pressed a final kiss to the spot, then moved on to another bit of skin to repeat the process.

Viktor's breath was loud and uneven in Yuuri's ear. Yuuri finally took pity on him and pulled away from Viktor's neck to kiss his lips once more.

Barely two seconds passed before the sound of raised voices could be heard through the door. Yuuri and Viktor broke apart, straining to hear. It sounded like shouts.

“Ten!”

“Nine!”

“Eight!”

The warmth that had blossomed in Yuuri's chest sizzled and morphed into cold dread. It was a countdown, meaning it was already midnight. Which meant he had a minute to make his escape before he transformed back to normal.

Yuuri tore himself from Viktor's arms and flung open the door, hurtling down the hallway as fast as he could. Not even Viktor's panicked “Wait!” would stop him, no matter how badly he wanted to stay. He was nearly at the entrance before a hand latched around his wrist and tugged him to a standstill.

“No, please, I have to go—” Yuuri said, trying to pull out of Viktor's grasp. The taller man shook his head frantically.

“You can't leave now, I still don't know your name! How can I find—”

Yuuri cut him off with a forceful kiss to the lips. He felt awful for taking advantage of Viktor like this, but he _had_ to make his getaway immediately. He had less than a minute, judging by the cheers and shouts coming from the main room.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered against Viktor's lips. Then he tugged his wrist away and barreled through the entrance doors.

There was still a sizable number of people outside; all of them would be witnesses if Yuuri couldn't find somewhere secluded. Yuuri knew he had moments before Viktor recovered from shock and came after him, so he picked a direction at random and ran. The crowds thinned out as he put distance between himself and the building, but it wasn't until Yuuri rounded a corner and made a dash for a small city park that he felt truly safe. It was not a moment too soon, either. Just seconds after Yuuri stopped to breathe he felt the rush of wind signifying his transformation.

Yuuri sighed in relief. But the sound of rushed footsteps coming in his direction caused him to panic, and without thinking Yuuri threw himself into the thick shrubbery on the side of the path. He landed on his side and quickly rolled onto his stomach, ignoring the pain from the impact.

In the dim light from the streetlights Yuuri could just barely make out a tall figure slow to a stop in front of the bushes. His brightly-colored coat sparkled as he shifted, looking from left to right desperately.

It pained Yuuri to see Viktor so distraught.

Yuuri didn't dare make a sound. He watched as Viktor looked around the park, fists clenched. An eternity passed in the span of a few seconds as Yuuri waited. At long last Viktor appeared to give up. He let out a defeated sigh, and with one last gaze around the park, slowly retreated down the path back towards the party.

Yuuri waited until Viktor was completely out of sight, plus two extra minutes, and only then did he finally emerge from his hiding place. He winced at the pain radiating from his side. No doubt there would be bruises there tomorrow.

Suddenly Yuuri was overcome with the urge to cry. He had come so close! He'd gained Viktor's trust, friendship even, and he’d _kissed_ him, and now it was all gone. He'd been too scared to reveal himself. And there weren't any more chances for Yuuri; the party would be over after tonight.

A sob escaped Yuuri against his will. He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, but the tears kept coming. Dammit, he'd been _so close._

Somewhere in Yuuri's mess of thoughts and regrets it occurred to him that the hand on his face felt strangely bare. Yuuri opened his eyes to look at the hand.

The ring was gone.

~~~

Viktor dragged his feet all the way back to the party. The mysterious man had just barely slipped through his fingers yet again. This time, it seemed it would be permanent. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated at his failure. There had been something about that person that drew Viktor to him the moment they finished their first dance. He was everything Viktor was looking for in a skating partner, and Viktor had even formed an attraction to him.

And _god,_ Viktor had been over the moon when the man had allowed Viktor to kiss him. Maybe it was all too sudden, but the man seemed to be enjoying it just as much as Viktor had been.

But the man had taken off when the countdown to midnight started, looking terrified. Viktor couldn't bear to let him go like he had the previous nights, and chased after him; but it was all to no avail. He'd lost the man outside. And Viktor had no way of finding him.

He walked down the hall towards the party room, his heart heavy. A small glitter caught his eye from the floor ahead. Viktor cocked his head and stepped closer, bending to pick it up. It was a golden ring.

Viktor turned the ring over in his hand. Someone must have lost it. He should probably take it to one of the employees, its owner was probably missing it—

He sucked in a breath. He remembered the feeling of cold metal against his skin as he was kissed, remembered the glitter of gold shining on a hand placed in his, and he knew. The ring had to belong to the stranger.

Viktor closed his palm around the ring and touched his fist lightly to his lips. It was a longshot, but Viktor had a way to find his stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Oops. Anyway, the outfit is from YOI's finale, that glorious pair skating scene. Was there a good reason for me putting everyone in their skating costumes for a party? No, but I did it anyway.


	5. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of his escape, Yuuri feels down. A chance meeting may change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's over. Again, thank you very much for reading!

Yuuri blinked awake slowly. His room was filled with bright sunlight, which was odd because the sun was never this bright this early in the morning. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table and turned it on.

Immediately he was greeted with a wall of texts, and he hadn't even unlocked the phone yet. Yuuri sighed and ignored them momentarily in favor of the clock.

It was 11:28. He’d overslept. Had he really been that exhausted?

Probably. Crying had worn him out. Yuuri pulled the covers up over his head. God, he'd screwed up massively last night.

He wanted to stay in bed and hide from the world as long as possible, but hunger drove him to shuffle into the kitchen. Yuuri had just sat down with some toast when something was loudly slammed onto the table in front of him.

“You _have_ to read the paper today,” Minako demanded, pointing at the newspaper she'd thrown down.

“Who keeps letting you into the house?” Yuuri said irritably. He'd nearly choked on his toast in surprise.

“Did you get my texts?”

“I _saw_ them, I didn't read them. I only just woke up.”

“Yuuri, _read the paper.”_

With that cryptic statement, Minako walked out. Yuuri stared after her. Was that it?

Whatever. He didn't particularly feel like reading the news or Minako’s texts. Or doing anything. Yuuri laid his head against the table.

Much as he would have liked to stay that way, the table was digging into his forehead and Yuuri was forced to sit up. With a sigh he went back upstairs to change. A few hours at the Ice Castle might clear the depressive fog engulfing him.

If Yuuri had paid more attention that morning, he might have noticed that both the texts and paper told of a statement Viktor had made regarding the mystery skater; he was embarking on a search to find him, and all male skaters who'd attended the party were encouraged to meet him at the convention center.

He might also have noticed he was still wearing his ring.

Yuuri could only offer a weak half-smile to Yuuko when he arrived. She seemed to notice something was wrong, but didn't say anything. Yuuri was grateful.

“Rink’s empty,” she said instead. Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure he'd be able to deal with other skaters right now.

“Thanks,” he replied, and headed for the rink.

He skated around aimlessly for a long time. There were no routines to practice, and he had no inspiration for trying tricks. Back and forth, back and forth he went.

He became wrapped up in his thoughts for so long that he didn't realize the sun was setting until his stomach rumbled and roused him. Yuuri checked his phone: it was just past five.

Yuuri was debating whether to leave immediately or stay for a few minutes longer when three loud squeals drew his attention to the door. The triplets came barreling through the door one by one, babbling over each other.

“Yuuri, you won't believe it!”

“He's here! He's here!”

“I think he's coming in!”

They ducked out of sight as the door opened and Yuuko entered. She scolded the kids and ushered them out, throwing an alarmed look at Yuuri before exiting.

What was that about? Yuuri frowned. “Who’s coming—”

His heart stopped. Viktor had walked through the door as Yuuko left.

He didn't see Yuuri at first, and Yuuri could see the frustration and disappointment etched onto his face. Then, Viktor glanced up.

“Oh. Hello.”

Yuuri was shocked by how sad Viktor sounded. He struggled to get out a reply.

“Uh, hi.”

Viktor stepped onto the ice. “I was hoping to skate. I didn't mean to interrupt…”

“No!” Yuuri interrupted. “I mean, I really wasn't doing anything. You're not interrupting.”

The ghost of a smile shadowed Viktor's face for a moment; it vanished as quickly as it came. 

“I’m Viktor, by the way.”

“Duh.” Yuuri said without thinking. He winced and attempted to backtrack. “I meant— my name is Yuuri.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor murmured. A shiver went down Yuuri's spine at how his name rolled off of Viktor's tongue. “Nice to meet you.”

Despite his previous words, Viktor made no move to skate. Yuuri moved towards him a few feet. “Is… everything alright?”

Viktor stared down Yuuri for a few seconds. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It's been a rough day. I assume you've heard about the parties I had the last few nights?” Viktor waited for Yuuri’s nod to continue. “I met someone. He wouldn't tell me who he was, but something about him intrigued me. We danced all three nights, I really liked him. I was going to name him my skating partner.”

Yuuri was floored. “Your… skating partner…”

“But he ran off before I could get his name or anything else. And I set up a meeting today to try and find him, but he never showed up.”

“A meeting?!”

“I invited all the skaters that had gone to the party,” Viktor confirmed. “And he wasn't there. I don't know how else to find him.”

Yuuri's heart was aching. _I'm here, I'm right here!_

“I'm sorry,” he said instead.

“I thought he liked me, as well. Maybe I wasn't enough.”

“What?! But you're amazing— uh, um,” Yuuri started, then cut himself off, face starting to heat up. Dammit, it was so _awkward_ talking to Viktor now. Viktor’s face was one of surprise, but it soon shifted into amusement. Yuuri tried to recover: “I mean, it's his loss, then. If he didn't show up.”

Viktor laughed softly. He no longer looked so defeated, but he still carried an air of sadness around him. Yuuri hated that he was the cause. He wished there was something he could do. Anything.

“Skate with me,” he said, before immediately clapping a hand over his mouth.

Viktor's eyes snapped up to meet his. Yuuri swallowed hard. 

“What?”

“Um.”

“Skate with you?”

“I mean— uh..”

“...Alright.”

Yuuri's jaw dropped. “Wait, really?”

Viktor skated a bit closer. “I've had a rough day, and it might cheer me up. Now, show me what you can do.”

How did Yuuri manage back himself into a corner like this? He was being asked to skate with his idol, whom he'd danced with the past several nights, which wouldn't normally seem like a tough decision. But those previous nights he'd been in disguise, and his idol wasn't aware that he and the mystery man were one and the same. And despite wanting desperately to tell the truth, the thought of doing so terrified him.

Yuuri hated life.

He took a slow breath. He could do this, right? He'd danced with Viktor before, in front of a huge room full of people, no less. He'd flirted with Viktor and held hands with Viktor and _kissed_ Viktor. All he had to do was skate.

He could do this.

~~~

Viktor thought Yuuri would back out of his proposal. He looked like he was regretting saying anything. So it came as a slight surprise when Yuuri's expression hardened, and the man pulled out his phone and started to play a song. He turned up the volume as loud as it could go and skated towards the edge of the rink, placing the phone on the railing. Then he returned to Viktor's side and held out his hand.

Viktor took it.

The song started out slow, but gradually began to pick up in intensity. Viktor let Yuuri set the pace and followed his lead. Yuuri tugged Viktor forwards, then released his hand and skated away some distance. Instinctively Viktor followed. A sort of cat-and-mouse game ensued. Yuuri would let him get close enough to touch before spinning and darting away.

The ring hanging from Viktor's neck bounced against his chest as he moved. His shirt hid it and prevented it from flying everywhere, but Viktor was super aware of the cold metal hitting his skin each time.

At last Viktor managed to catch Yuuri around the waist. Using his momentum, Viktor spun them both around. Yuuri kept eye contact with him the entire time. Viktor was beginning to like this man.

Yuuri twisted out of Viktor's grip and grasped the hand previously on his waist. He then took Viktor's other hand and spun so that his back was against Viktor's front, his arms crossed in front of him.

Viktor released his hands and let Yuuri twirl away. Then he swooped forwards and grasped Yuuri's waist again, with both hands this time. Yuuri got the hint and braced his hands on Viktor's shoulders, and Viktor lifted him in the air.

The song began to slow down. Viktor put Yuuri back down gently, and Yuuri retreated a few inches to give him some space. His hands slid down Viktor's arms to hold his hands once more as the music petered out.

They were both panting. Viktor's low mood had almost completely disappeared, and a genuine smile graced his face. Yuuri gave him one in return and squeezed his hands.

It was then Viktor noticed a cool sensation against his fingers. He looked to their tangled hands to see a ring on Yuuri's finger.

It looked an awful lot like the one Viktor was carrying. Which meant only one thing.

Viktor's eyes darted across Yuuri's face. Short black hair, glasses, skin flushed with exertion, bright eyes. 

His eyes were the same. Viktor would recognize that color, that shine anywhere.

“It's you,” he breathed.

~~~

Yuuri went pale. Oh god, he'd figured it out. He forced himself to stare down at the ice, dreading Viktor's next words. Viktor would be unimpressed with him, he would be disappointed that it was really Yuuri all along—

The hands in Yuuri's gripped tighter, almost to the point of pain. Yuuri winced. Slowly he raised his eyes.

Viktor looked _elated._ Huge smile, eyes wide, slight blush, bated breath; Yuuri was astonished.

Viktor still liked him. Viktor was happy that he was the mystery man. Yuuri's heart swelled. 

A small voice in his head said that the cat was already out of the bag. He may as well give up the act.

Yuuri wrapped his arms around Viktor's neck and pulled him into a kiss.

He could tell it caught Viktor off guard by the small noise his throat made. It didn't take long for him to catch up though, gripping Yuuri's jacket tightly and kissing back.

Yuuri wasn't sure he was still alive. He may have died and gone to heaven.

It was a softer kiss than the ones they'd shared previously. There was no rush. There was no deadline to worry over. They had all the time in the world.

Giggling broke them apart. It was Viktor who started, and soon both of them were laughing. The sheer relief Yuuri felt washed away a huge portion of the weight on his shoulders. He felt lighter than he had all day.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Viktor whispered. He didn't sound angry, but Yuuri was still embarrassed.

“I was scared. You're, well, _you,_ and I'm nothing special really, I thought you'd be disappointed in who I was—”

“Yuuri,” Viktor said sternly. Then his voice became more gentle: “I danced with two people before you turned up the first night, and I danced only with you after that. No one else caught my eye like you did.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said weakly.

“I want to skate with you.”

“Oh.”

Viktor reached around his neck and pulled out a string from under his shirt. Yuuri gasped when he saw the ring dangling from Viktor's hand. Viktor slipped it off the string and placed it in Yuuri's hand.

“And I want to get to know you better.”

Yuuri felt the sting of tears in his eyes. Despite that, he smiled. He turned the ring between his fingers. He couldn't believe Viktor had found it. Now he had both again.

...Although. One person didn't really need two rings all for themselves.

Hands shaking, Yuuri took the ring and slipped it on Viktor's finger. “I’d like that too.”

“I feel like we're doing this in the wrong order,” Viktor said breathlessly. His eyes were wide.

“We've got time to catch up on the rest,” Yuuri said. Their rings shone, symbols of that promise.

~~~

Viktor jolted awake as something big jumped onto the bed and began whining. He groaned as Makkachin started licking his face.

“I'm up, I'm up,” he mumbled, stroking Makkachin’s fur. Makkachin let out a bark.

“Wha?” came a soft voice from the other side of the bed. Viktor peered over Makkachin to see Yuuri emerging from underneath the blankets, eyes still closed and hair askew.

He looked beautiful.

Viktor leaned over to peck Yuuri's forehead. “Morning.”

“Hggh.”

Yuuri shoved his face into the pillow. Makkachin sniffed him curiously. A huff of laughter escaped Viktor.

It was November. Viktor had remained in Japan with Yuuri for a month before convincing him to come back to Russia with him to train. And move in with him.

They'd taken it slow, despite how their relationship initially began. They had to grow accustomed to each other's presence, and Viktor was unused to living with another person. 

It helped that Makkachin adored Yuuri as much as Viktor did. Yuuri was just as fond in return, eagerly taking Makkachin on his morning runs and sharing small bits of food. Viktor had walked in on them snuggling on the couch together, sound asleep, multiple times. He may or may not have had a picture album on his phone titled “Sleeping Loves” full of those instances.

“Yuuriii,” Viktor whined, draping himself over his boyfriend’s back.

“Noooo,” Yuuri protested, trying to wriggle out from under him. Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri's chest.

“We’re hungry, come on,” Viktor said over Yuuri's shoulder. Yuuri turned his head to glare at him. Viktor looked back innocently.

Makkachin made a snorting noise out of nowhere. He jumped off the bed a second later when loud laughter erupted from the two men and scared him.

“Ohh, sorry Makkachin!” Yuuri said through his giggles. Viktor rolled off of Yuuri to lay next to him. Their laughter faded out and left them smiling at each other.

Yuuri took Viktor's hand. “Fiiiine, I'll join you in a few minutes,” he said. Viktor rolled his eyes.

“Lazy,” he teased, kissing Yuuri's lips. He felt Yuuri smile just before he pulled away and got up to make breakfast.

Yuuri could hear Viktor talking to Makkachin in the kitchen. He was happy, living with a boyfriend and dog and a job he absolutely loved. How in the hell had he managed to get so lucky?

His phone buzzed, and Yuuri felt around for his glasses. He put them on and picked up his phone.

Phichit: if I'm not ur best man I'm suing

Yuuri laughed.

Yuuri: thank you Phichit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it painfully obvious I don't know how to skate or dance? Because I'm awful at describing it, haha.


End file.
